#post-dominion war

[crowfootwrites]

What Happens on Risa [Gul Macet x Fem!Reader]

So, the other day, I found a document in my Google Drive from OCTOBER 2023 that just said, "Gul Macet takes his "nephew" (Gul Dukat’s son) to Risa for his 16th birthday, where he meets reader and they *ahem* keep in touch (2376 – post-Dominion War)" and had a singular page written. Then ✨ B A M ✨, inspiration hit and I sat down and wrote the rest, smut and all. I'm not even bothering to share it in pieces, because why wait, you know? You can also read it on AO3!

Without further ado, here's a little Gul Macet one shot!

Tagging some fellow space lizard-lovers, in case y'all wanna read: @horta-in-charge, @starrynightgardens, @sleepycat82, @vreenak, @deepspacedukat (please let me know if you don't want me to tag you, lol, I just be takin' liberties at this point)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ on this, bois, 'cause there's some vacation hanky-panky goin' on: inter-species sex (sex involving Cardassian genitals), oral sex, vaginal fingering, PIV smut, unprotected sex; but generally fluffy sweet love-makin! Not beta'd, we die like men. | Words: ~6,555

“Bo’yadik!” his nephew called from the open front door.

Gul Akellan Macet grinned at the sight of the young man, grown several inches since the last time he’d seen him, his posture proud and calm, despite the eagerness in his voice. He made his way up the sandy front path, grasping his nephew’s shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze.

“It is good to see you again, Mekor,” he commented, unable to temper the satisfaction on his face. His last stint on the Trager had taken him from Cardassia for far too long, and although he loved his ship and his crew, there was nothing like coming home again. Although, this time around, he had something special planned for Mekor and wouldn’t be remaining on Cardassia for very long. He’d returned to his own home near the Imperial Plaza to drop off belongings and pack a bag before coming to collect Mekor.

“Akellan!” The call floated around Mekor from further inside the house, heralding the arrival of his cousin’s wife just before she arrived in the doorway behind her son, whose stature already towered over hers.

“Kelana,” Macet greeted her with a smile and a nod, eyeing the baby clinging to her hip – this would be Dukat’s last son, then. It infuriated Macet to dwell on the way a beautiful and proud woman like Kelana continued to bear children for his cousin, even as he slept with half the Alpha Quadrant. He did not know her motivations, nor did he care to know. He only cared that they were taken care of, and Kelana was nothing if not resourceful. No one had heard from Dukat since last year and it had been generally accepted amongst their family that he had died or been otherwise lost in the Dominion War.

It was precisely why Macet was here, planning to ensure that Mekor’s 16th birthday was special, unmarred by his father’s absence, although that had been the case for much of his life, even before Dukat was presumed dead.

Mekor stepped to the side slightly, giving his mother room. “Will you stay for dinner, Akellan? It’s been so long since your last visit,” she asked with a genuine smile, bouncing the fussing child on her hip.

Akellan sighed good-naturedly. “I wish that I could, my dear, but Mekor and I have a transport to catch. When we return, however, I have several more days before I must report back for duty, and I would love to spend time with you and the children.”

 “I look forward to it,” Kelana replied. She placed a hand on Mekor’s arm and smiled up at her son. “Have a safe trip, cestUl. Be careful, listen to Akellan, and have fun.”

Mekor’s hand reached over to rest atop his mother’s. “I will, adik.”

The baby in Kelana’s arms began to fuss more loudly, and she turned to stride back into her home.

“Let me grab my bag!” Mekor exclaimed before rushing inside to gather his belongings.

Macet rested against the doorframe, embracing the damp heat of his home world, lounging in a ray of dusky sunlight like a contented gettle. He chuckled at the din that his nieces and nephews were creating inside the house, their chatter and the clanging of dishes and toys carrying through the open door.

Mekor bounded back through the door, nearly breathless, his dark eyes lit with excitement. “I’m ready.”

Akellan laughed and pulled his nephew under one of his arms, mussing his hair. “Let’s go, then,” he crowed, leading Mekor back down the path toward the street, headed for the transport site where they would catch their passenger ship.

• • •

The bar was crowded, packed with bodies of all shapes and sizes and colors (and in various stages of undress), as people waited for their drinks. A heavyset Bolian man stepped backward, bumping into you soundly before turning to offer profuse apologies.

“It’s alright,” you assured him with a small smile, although truthfully, you were at your limit of social interaction for the day. The heat of the Risian twin suns high overhead and the press of bodies surrounding you made you grouchy, irritation drawing your shoulders up toward your ears.

A handsome Risian bartender finally handed you your fluorescent blue drink, topped with piles of fruit and colorful flowers, tossing a charming smile your way as you backed away from the bar desperately. You turned away to watch where you were going and made your way past clusters of palm trees and bushes full of magenta flowers back onto the sandy beach where your companions had gathered.

Although, they were gone by the time you arrived – you spotted one of the three friends you’d come with chatting with a Risian woman in a gorgeous silver swimsuit near the ocean’s edge. It was anyone’s guess as to where the other two had wandered off. You settled yourself back in your plush chair beneath a wide umbrella, taking a bracing sip of your very sweet, very alcoholic beverage.

Taking a deep breath of salty air, you closed your eyes, enjoying the way the breeze caressed your skin. It had been… too long since you’d last had a vacation. Being a teacher aboard Starbase Epsilon was an exciting and fulfilling job, but you’d been doing it for a long while. You’d taught there all through the Dominion War, which had only ended the year before, even as the Cardassian Union’s treaty with the Dominion threatened the safety of all outlying Federation planets and bases. It had been a stressful time, to say the least, and even in the year that had passed since the Dominion forces surrendered, there was little respite from the damage that had been done while the war had rampaged.

Given the starbase’s proximity to Cardassia Prime, Epsilon, along with Deep Space Nine, housed scores of displaced Cardassians, as well as Starfleet officers and Federation civilians who flocked to Cardassia to help them rebuild.  

Your student body population had swelled then, and you’d had to hire more teachers to assist you – your three companions who were with you now on Risa. You’d decided a few weeks ago that you all deserved a break, after a long year of modifying curriculums, wrangling students, and managing parent expectations.

And so you found yourself on Risa, unsure how to relax like this after so long without any leave.

A spray of sand jerked you from your thoughts as it surged over your legs and chair. You bolted upright with a surprised yelp, eyes wide as you looked for the source of the shimmering sand now pooling beneath you in your chair.

A shadow fell over you from the side as a tall Cardassian rose from the ground, dusting himself off. He looked young, his chu’en and scales still relatively smooth. He looked at you sheepishly, and you glimpsed the hoverball he tucked nervously behind his back. “I’m very sorry, miss, I –”

With a laugh, you waved him off. “It’s alright. I’d rather get hit with sand than a hoverball.”

The Cardassian laughed with you, his relief evident in the sound.

Another Cardassian man came jogging up behind the first, this one older and bare-chested, with small patches of hair adorning his chin.

His eyebrow ridges rose slightly as his gaze fell on you, taking in the sand dusting your bare legs and settled in your lap, a light blue tint coloring his chufa.

“I must apologize, miss, my nephew and I were getting a little out of hand, it would seem,” he confessed, his voice low and more than a little captivating. He bumped his nephew with his shoulder. “Did you apologize, Mekor?” he asked.

As Mekor began another guilty apology, you chuckled again. “It’s quite alright,” you assured him. “I’m fine, no harm done.” To demonstrate, you rose from your chair, sand cascading down your legs as you wiped at the bottom half of your swimsuit and the tops of your thighs with one hand, the other still clutching your drink.

A glint of something like hunger flashed across the older man’s eyes as your gaze met his, but he blinked and it was gone.

“Perhaps I could replace your drink,” the man offered.

“Oh, I-,” you began, glancing down toward your hand to find the fruit and flowers atop your glass indeed shimmering with sand. You looked back up at him shyly. “Oh. That would be lovely, actually – thank you.”

The man nodded and motioned toward the bar. His hand came to rest softly on your lower back as you stepped around the chair and to his side.

With a smirk and a benign shake of his head, you saw Mekor toss the hoverball up and follow it back to wherever they’d camped out along the beach.

“What is your name, my dear?” the Cardassian at your side asked, his head turned to watch you. You smiled, biting your lip nervously. His proud posture and the way the sun gleamed against his bare chest made you a little self-conscious.

You gave him your name, trying to force some nonchalance into your tone.  

“Lovely,” he murmured. He guided you back towards the bar you’d come from not too long ago, the shady seating area still overrun with patrons. Unlike your last excursion, however, the throngs of people seemed to part without thought for Akellan’s presence. “I am Akellan.”

As you went to respond, a group of young, rowdy humans veered drunkenly into your path. Before any of them could collide with you, however, you felt Akellan’s hand grasping at your waist, tugging you closer to him. 

You glanced over at him, your heart stuttering at the proximity. He kept his arm wrapped around you and, with excitement coursing through you, you couldn’t bring yourself to mention it. You ducked your head slightly to hide the smile that painted your lips. He guided you forward slightly as you approached the bar top, protecting your back from the jostling of others with his tall frame. 

You ordered another of your gaudy blue cocktails and Akellan ordered a kanar for himself, to be charged to his room. Mesmerized by the crystalline ocean beyond the bar and beach, you didn’t notice his careful observation of you. His eyes traced the gentle slope of your neck down to your shoulders, the delicacy of your collarbones, the way the shimmery green swimsuit you’d chosen accentuated your curves. He’d never been more grateful for Mekor’s youthful ungainliness than he was right now.  

As the bartender handed you your respective drinks, Akellan stepped away from you, but held out a hand, a smirk playing over his lips.

Offering him a smile of your own, you slid your hand into his, allowing him to tug you gently back the way you came.

“So, what brings you and your nephew to Risa?” you asked curiously, your toes relishing in the warmth of the sand. Akellan slowed his stride as you reached the beach, as though he wasn’t particularly eager to get you back to your chair. 

“Ah,” he started brightly, his blue eyes glimmering in the sunlight, “yesterday was Mekor’s 16th birthday, and I wanted to do something special for him.”

“That’s very kind of you!” you replied, squeezing his fingers lightly. 

Akellan chuckled, a rich, gravelly sound you immediately wanted to hear again.  

“I certainly try to be a good uncle. His father is not around anymore and as the oldest, Mekor has many responsibilities and not much time to enjoy his youth.” A mixed group of very attractive Risian and Trill women passed you both and, despite their giggling and heated looks in Akellan’s direction, he didn’t spare them a glance, his gaze focused firmly on you as he spoke. “I suppose I’m spoiling him a bit, but I can’t help but want to provide him with good experiences. Living on Cardassia, he’s been through plenty already.”

You nodded somberly at that. “I can certainly understand that,” you murmured, reluctantly pulling your attention away from him as you approached your beach chair. A sinking feeling tugged at your chest, realizing it was likely time to part ways. But Akellan hadn’t released your hand yet. He was standing so close to you. You wiggled your toes further into the sand nervously, willing the tension out of your muscles.

“Thank you,” you offered, lifting your drink up slightly.

“Of course.” He glanced around at the vacant chairs, strewn with your friends’ abandoned towels and half-finished cocktails. “Have your… friends abandoned you?” he asked, the ridge above one of his eyes raised slightly. You heard the question behind his question and exhaled a laugh. 

“Yes,” you replied as you placed your drink on the small table beside your lounge chair, “my friends seem to have found other diversions for themselves.” 

He paused, studying you again, a mischievous curiosity in his features. “And, if I may ask, what diversions will you be partaking in?”

You glanced skyward, tapping a finger against your chin theatrically. “I’ll probably go for a swim. I have a new novel I’m looking to finish… Perhaps I’ll do some people-watching.” You shot him a sly grin. “There are some very attractive people here, you know.” 

“Oh, I am well aware,” he muttered darkly. Heat rose in your chest and cheeks.

As his gaze returned to yours again, he looked hopeful. “I’ve promised to thoroughly beat Mekor at hoverball today,” he explained, and you laughed. “I have a reputation to uphold, after all… But perhaps you would like to join me for dinner this evening?”

The butterflies in your stomach erupted into your tightening chest, the prospect of taking a deep breath daunting in that moment. You nodded enthusiastically, biting your lip to keep from grinning like an absolute fool.

“How does 1900 sound?” he asked, sounding somewhat relieved that you’d agreed.

“That works for me!” You cleared your throat quietly, trying to take the overeager pitch out of your voice. “I’m in room 151.”

With a nod, Akellan began to walk backward, as though he wasn’t quite ready to take his eyes off you. You took the opportunity to appraise him, to appreciate the patterning of his scales and the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin. When your gaze returned to his, although he’d put considerable distance between the two of you, he smirked. He finally turned away from you to watch where he was walking, and you sank back onto your beach chair and off of your wobbly legs.

Akellan and Mekor had settled themselves not far from your location on the beach and you found yourself unable (and frankly, unwilling) to stop stealing glances at Akellan. You tried to focus on your novel, you really did, but your eyes flicked up over the top of the PADD in front of you often, in an almost compulsive way. Sometimes, you’d glance up to find him already looking at you and, playing coy, you’d bite your lip and refocus on your PADD.   

After an hour of re-reading the same page of your novel, you finally put it down, groaning at your own giddiness. You stood and made your way into the crystalline surf, hoping a swim would clear your mind. You could see, in your periphery, that Akellan was watching, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand, the other holding the hoverball teasingly above his head as Mekor jumped desperately for it beside him.

Trying not to focus on his staring, you let the sea pull you in, diving beneath rolling waves until you were past any other tourists, capturing a bit of ocean for yourself. Taking another deep breath and feeling the pull of currents against you, you floated onto your back, the rocking waves indeed soothing the somewhat overwhelming anticipation that had been zipping through you since Akellan first approached.

You let your mind wander, contemplating how long it had been since you’d felt this way about anyone. Too long, if the lack of surfacing memories was anything to go by. Even your last couple of boyfriends hadn’t really inspired that kind of energy in you – you’d loved them, certainly, but in each instance, there was some measure of passion missing that never really materialized.

But it felt ridiculous to think that maybe Akellan was what you’d been looking for. After all, you were just vacationing in the same place. You didn’t know anything about him or his life. Maybe he was just after a one-night stand. A fling. A little vacation hanky-panky. The thought made your heart feel leaden behind your ribcage. 

Blowing a raspberry at the sky, you glanced toward the shore to ensure you hadn’t been pulled too far out.

A small smile crept across your lips as you watched Akellan and Mekor play together, their laughter and teasing carrying on the wind.  

You stayed in the water a while longer, letting the setting suns warm your skin as they painted the sky in gorgeous ribbons of pink and orange. When you finally swam back toward the shore and strode out of the surf, you noticed Mekor and Akellan packing up. As Akellan’s gaze landed on you, you smiled and gave him a small wave, continuing on toward your chair and your own belongings. You caught his grin before you turned away, his hand lifted in a half-wave as though he’d lost his train of thought.

• • •

You agonized over what to wear. It wasn’t like you to fuss over outfits, and you knew it made little sense to care so much about what a man who’d already seen you in next-to-nothing thought about your clothing choices. But still, you agonized. You certainly hadn’t anticipated a dinner date on this trip, meaning you hadn’t brought too many options with you. After significant pacing and long stretches in front of the mirror, you decided on a blue, strappy linen dress that hugged you in all the right places. 

By the time you’d gotten yourself ready, your door chime was sounding. You zipped to the door to answer it. 

As the door slid open, you were greeted by Akellan’s wide smile. The sight of his lean frame clad in a soft, deep green shirt and loose brown pants stole all the thoughts from your head for a moment. He looked so… touchable. 

“You look stunning,” Akellan remarked as his own gaze appraised your exposed shoulders and the way your dress wrapped around you. 

“As do you,” you replied, your fingers twitching at your side. You tucked your traitorous hands behind your back, trying not to give yourself away or paint yourself as too eager, but if his smirk was anything to go on, Akellan hadn’t missed the minute movement.

Akellan offered you his arm as the pair of you made your way down the hall toward the lobby of the hotel. 

“And where is Mekor this evening?” you asked conversationally. “I hate to steal you away from him,” you added, although you knew your tone gave away that you didn’t feel that badly about it. 

Akellan chuckled. “He has found some entertainment of his own, I fear, in the form of a group of Risian teenagers… I believe they’re going to see some live music in one of the coves.”

It was a perfect night for it, you thought. Balmy and pleasant - you looked up into the rapidly darkening night sky scattered with stars. Akellen followed your gaze.

“I must admit that I simply assumed you were from Earth - how far are you from home?” he asked quietly, steering you beside him on the paved path towards Suraya Bay. 

You hummed, mapping planets in your head. “Only a little closer than you, I think.” You glanced over at your companion, whose browline ridges had raised in interest. “You were somewhat correct in your assumption - I’m originally from Earth, but I’ve been living on Starbase Epsilon for the last five years.”

“Ah,” came Akellan’s quiet response. As the two of you made your way toward the cove, Akellan’s demeanor seemed to have shifted. He held himself less cavalierly, appeared less amorous and more curious. It was… comforting, you realized. It made you feel less vulnerable. “You are very close to Cardassia, then. I understand that Epsilon is one of the starbases that has seen the most refugees from the war?”

You nodded. “I’m a teacher on the ‘base, so I’ve had the unique opportunity to have Cardassian culture taught to me by children,” you responded with a laugh. 

Akellan chuckled. “I couldn’t imagine the chaos, honestly.”

“It’s been an adjustment, to be sure, but I enjoy teaching. And the new students I’ve had have generally proven themselves to be very capable and bright.”

“That’s a relief,” Akellan said, sounding like he was only half-joking. 

Your jaw dropped slightly as the pair of you rounded a corner, revealing a small, open-air restaurant strung up with twinkling lights sitting just at the water’s edge. The stars and lights glinted white on the rippling surface of the sea and you knew you couldn’t wait this long for another vacation again. There was nothing like this view on the starbase; even the holosuites couldn’t compare to the real thing. 

“I didn’t even know this was here,” you murmured, feeling slightly choked up. This was very romantic.

“I like to think I have a few surprises up my sleeve,” Akellan told you, guiding you by the elbow through the double glass doors. A very tan Risian waiter inclined his head with a smile before guiding the two of you directly toward a patio filled with small, intimate tables, surrounded by a low stone wall. The waves lapped softly against it as Akellan pulled out your chair and you glanced up at him as you sat, the lights on the ceiling glowing like a halo behind him.

He bent toward you as he pushed your chair in, his breath whispering against your ear. “You look lovely in this light.”

Heat crept into your cheeks and you bit your lip to stop from kissing him then and there. As though sensing this, Akellan winked then turned to take his own seat.

Dinner was a delight. Over wine and fresh seafood, Akellen regaled you with tales from his ship, the Trager, as well as stories from his own childhood and family life back on Cardassia. He asked about your youth and experiences teaching children on a starbase. Humor seemed to be a shared language for the two of you, and you were granted your earlier wish of hearing Akellan’s laugh over and over again. His bright smile was contagious and brought with it a tightness in your chest that you identified as falling hard and fast for someone. 

“So, how often do you get to spend time with Mekor?” you asked over a sip of springwine. “You two seem very close.”

Akellan’s eyes darted away from yours briefly. He sighed. 

“We are very close. Mostly because his father spent much of his life putting his military and political ambitions above all else, including his family. Even when he could have returned to Cardassia, he often did not. I have always had… different priorities than my cousin,” he told you earnestly. “So I have helped to raise Mekor wherever I could. And lately… well, Dukat has been missing in action, though likely deceased, so I am trying to do right by my family.”

You choked slightly on another sip of wine, covering your mouth as you coughed. “I’m sorry,” you croaked. “Gul Dukat is your cousin - is Mekor’s father?”

“You know of him?” Akellan looked genuinely surprised.

“I do,” you admitted. “I have friends on Deep Space 9. I’m assuming you probably already know, but there was a rumor going around that Dukat had gotten in with the Pah-Wraiths, causing trouble for Captain Sisko, the Emissary. I think he thought that the Pah-Wraiths could maybe turn the tide of the War in favor of Cardassia and the Dominion.”

To your surprise and immediate dismay, Akellan looked somewhat ashamed. You hated it - it was an expression that did not mix well with his proud, sincere features. You fidgeted with the stem of your wine glass.

“I apologize for bringing it up,” you murmured. “I imagine it can’t be easy to talk about.”

“My lovely girl, you needn’t apologize. Dukat made his decisions, whatever they were. I now have the distinct pleasure of taking over where he has failed - I will be the person that Mekor and his siblings go to when they need a father’s advice.”

A seed of dread sprouted deep in your belly. “Does… When you say that, is there a Cardassian tradition wherein you… take over for Dukat? As in… I mean… I’m sorry, I’m normally more eloquent than this you,” you mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed. You pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes to collect yourself, but they opened again when you felt Akellan’s soft grasp on your hand that remained on the table. 

“You have no reason to fear me, dear girl. Ask away.” The openness and curiosity in his face was going to kill you, you realized.

“Um.. is it a tradition in Cardassia,” you began slowly, “that you must take over Dukat’s family for him? As in, marry his wife and raise his children as your own?” You bit your lip awkwardly. You couldn’t even imagine having to end this because Akellan wanted a fling before he returned to Cardassia to marry his cousin’s wife.

A slow smile graced his lips. There was compassion in his gaze. He took a deep breath before ending your suffering.

“Certainly not,” he said with a meaningful shake of his head. “One day, I would like to have a wife and children of my own. I would not take up Dukat’s - besides, I doubt Kelana would have me,” he added with a chuckle. “She can be quite… prickly. It was a good match for Dukat, but would not be so for me.”

He gently squeezed your hand that rested under his.

“Family is very important on Cardassia. I want to help mine, where I can.”

Relief flooded your system as rapidly as though Akellan had thrown cold water over you. “I can understand that,” you replied sheepishly. “I just… I didn’t want to get involved if you had something else going on back on Cardassia.”

Thoroughly embarrassed, you moved to pull your hand away from his on the table, but he grasped it firmly and cradled it in his.

“I have no such obligations to anyone. I would, however, like to find out what this could be. With you.” The words sat heavy over the table between you both.

Your heart had lodged itself in your throat. You swallowed around it and nodded. “I’d like that,” you whispered.

• • •

The cool night air caressed your bare shoulders as you stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the pale sands on the beach below. Leaning forward onto the railing, you took a deep breath to settle the nerves that Akellan’s very presence seemed to set on fire. 

As though your thoughts had called to him, you heard him approach behind you, felt the solidness of his form as he pressed close to your side, handing you a small glass of kanar. The two moons of Risa cast an ethereal light across his features, contrasting sharply with the dark, desirous look in his eyes. Feeling somewhat spellbound, you took the drink from him and brought it to your mouth. Akellan’s eyes tracked your every move, fixating on the way your lips pressed against the glass.

A sound almost like a growl rumbled in his throat. His fingers slipped beneath yours, removing the drink from your grasp and setting it on the railing with a loud clink as his other hand rose to cradle your jaw. His lips connected with yours feverishly and, without conscious thought, your body responded - your hands grazed upward over his firm chest and shoulders, looping around his ridged neck, your whole body surging upward, pushing you closer to him. 

Akellan’s free arm wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping you trapped against him. He broke from you with a groan, his mouth traveling to pepper rough kisses along your jaw and the column of your neck. 

You tilted your head back with a whimper as he sucked at the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

“Do you know how long I have been considering how I might get you to make sounds like that?” he demanded, his lips drifting over your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“How long?” you breathed up into the night sky, twining your trembling fingers together at the nape of his neck.

“Since you first… brushed that sand…” he muttered between restless kisses, “off your lap.” He sighed, his hands tracing your sides to settle on your hips. “I would have given a great deal to replace your hands with mine in that moment.”

You moaned at the thought, shifting your fingers to pluck needily at the collar of his shirt. He hummed against your skin. “You like that, don’t you, darling girl?” You could do no more than nod, dropping your head forward to brush your nose against his.

Akellan separated from you a bit, and you released your hold around his neck as he tugged his soft shirt up over his head, tossing it to the side. As if drawn by a magnet, your hands returned to his skin, palms tracing the scales and ridges decorating his torso. He sighed again as your fingers traipsed over the spoon formation on his chest; a very different kind of sigh this time, one that foretold heated gazes and lingering touches between crisp sheets in the warm Risian night. You couldn’t wait.

Smoothing his hands down your sides, Akellan caught the hem of your dress and began to push it upwards, his palms caressing your sides as though you’d disappear if he stopped touching you. Heat built between you as you pulled your dress up and over your head, leaving you standing before him in only your mismatched undergarments. 

His fingers traced your jaw lightly as he shifted into your grasp again, a stark contrast to the firm tug of your hair tangling in his fists. A moan slipped through your lips just before they collided with his. Distractedly, the pair of you gravitated toward your bed in the center of the room, not bothering to close the balcony doors behind you. 

Akellan guided you down onto your back on the bed, his palms tracing your skin, mapping the hills and valleys of your body. Memorizing them, if the concentration in his eyes was any indication.

His gaze caught yours as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your panties, pausing, asking silent permission. You rolled your hips slightly, spurring him on. “I want you, Akellan,” you managed, the heat rolling through you making your thoughts fuzzy. You felt as though you were consumed by thoughts of the Cardassian hovering above you and what he might do with you. 

Any restraint he might have been showing seemed to disappear then. Your underwear were on the floor in a matter of seconds, and Akellan was running slow kisses up the inside of one of your legs. Your whimper hung heavy in the air between you and you couldn’t miss the arrogant smirk that played at the corner of his mouth.

Your head tipped back against the comforter as Akellan’s fingers finally (finally!) stroked the apex of your thighs. As Akellan shifted, resting his free hand beside your head before leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, you felt a telltale hardness against your thigh. Your mind whirled with the possibilities lying before you this evening and the realization propelled you forward. You surged upward into a seated position, pushing Akellan back without breaking the kiss. 

With an unexpected level of gracefulness for you, you managed to pull Akellan onto the bed beside you and, kneeling beside him, your fingers made quick work of his belt. There was a brightness around his eyes, as though both surprised and incredibly turned on by this little display of assertiveness. 

“My, what an eager girl you are,” he murmured, his fingers again finding the cleft between your legs and continuing his earlier ministrations. The slick sounds of your pleasure, in combination with Akellan’s teasing, gravelly voice sent shudders rolling through you. You’d just managed to get Akellan’s pants over his thighs and pulled out his prUt with minimal fumbling when he slipped slipped a finger inside you. The moan that tumbled from between your lips was nearly shameful, but the hungry look in your lover’s eyes dismissed any cares you might have had. One of your hands rested on Akellan’s scaled thigh, clenching as you adjusted to the intrusion and the wave of pleasure that his curling, exploratory finger brought. 

You thanked past you roundly for doing some cursory studying of Cardassian anatomy when the starbase began housing so many Cardassians - Akellan’s cock was only intimidating in the way that first-time sex usually was, instead of the “I have no idea what to even do with this thing and it’s the first time” kind of way. 

With gentle fingers, you traced the length of Akellan’s everted prUt before landing on the especially-sensitive ring of scales at its base. A deep groan reverberated beside you, Akellan’s head thrown back and his free hand gripping the comforter like a lifeline. The groan morphed into a predatory growl as you brought your lips to his slippery length and licked from base to tip. 

You faltered for a moment in your quest to take him fully in your mouth as he added another finger to your needy cunt. But only for a moment - you were determined to show Akellan the same kind of pleasure he was bringing you as he curled his fingers experimentally inside you. 

The air around you was thick with groans and gasping breaths. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered the open balcony doors, but in that moment, lost in the haze of mounting ecstasy, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Akellan’s free hand loosened around the comforter and grasped instead at your hair, gently guiding you into a rhythm that quickly had his hips rolling. You massaged the irllun at his base as you did your best to take him deep into your throat. Akellan moaned your name desperately, and then the world was spinning around you as he maneuvered you over him and pulled you into a searing kiss. 

His tip teased at your entrance as he growled, “As much as I’d love to continue fucking that pretty mouth of yours, the feeling of you clenching around my fingers is driving me mad. I need you on my Cho’Ch.”

A whispered sigh of his name slipped between your lips as you sank onto him, fulfilling his need and yours. Your palms found their home pressed against the scales patterning his chest as you lifted yourself slowly onto your knees and back down again, rocking in a rhythm that made Akellan swear in Kardasi.

Akellan’s hands squeezed tightly about your hips, grinding you into him with every downstroke, the gratifying friction against your clit building until you were practically wailing into the balmy Risian air. The Cardassian beneath you pulled himself into a seated position, expertly removing your bra and burying his face in your chest, biting and sucking at your skin between groans that were starting to sound pained and impatient. You understood the feeling, rising ever higher toward your peak and ready to crash over the edge with Akellan. 

The amber-lit bedroom tilted around you again as Akellan maneuvered you onto your back on the soft sheets. He wasted no time thrusting back into you, his pupils wide in blue eyes that were focused intently on yours. 

“You feel exquisite,” he said darkly, resting his forehead against yours without losing his rhythm. 

“I’m so c-close, Akellan, please, please don’t stop-'' you begged, one of your hands coming up to squeeze Akellan’s bicep while the other raced down to twirl frantically around your clit. 

“Oh, I won’t, lovely thing, not until you’ve come for me,” he whispered, the heat of his words cradled in the shell of your ear as he buried his head against your shoulder, the tickle of his facial hair a pleasant contrast to the heavy, overwhelming sensations emanating from the meeting points between your bodies. 

And suddenly it was all too much - the heat, the grind and press of your bodies, his voice, the feel of his lips tracing the slope of your shoulder. The ever-tightening string in your core snapped and with a loud cry, an explosion of starlight burst behind your eyes. You vaguely registered the sharp intake of Akellan’s breath as you clenched around his length, the sound heralding his own climax as Akellan buried himself inside you, deeper than you thought anyone ever had before. 

In the heady, panting, messy afterglow, you felt Akellan pull out of you and you winced. Akellan appeared to notice, peppering your face with kisses and brushing your hair away from your face. He pulled you against his chest as you each caught your breath and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this comfortable.

 • • •

“Come on, babes, we’re gonna miss the transport!”

You could hear your friends shouting for you to hurry, but it felt near impossible to let Akellan Macet out of your grasp. You hugged him tighter and he returned the gesture, his palm cradling the back of your head where it was nestled in the crook of his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, my sweet girl, I’ll see you soon enough. I promise,” he whispered into your hair. You’d spent every remaining day of your vacation with Akellan and Mekor and the time spent with them had only solidified the hold he was building around your heart.

You pulled back just a bit, to meet his gaze dubiously. There was affection and patience in his smile. “You forget,” he murmured. “I have a ship at my command, and you are rather close to my homeworld. Besides, I have your personal number - I will write to you often, I swear it.”

You nodded a little mournfully. 

“And you will write back?” he asked, a little insecurity coloring his voice.

“Every day, if you wish it,” you whispered in return, meaning it. 

Akellan beamed and you couldn’t help the lifting of your own lips in response.

“I so look forward to our next meeting.” Akellan’s thumb gently traced your jaw before pulling you in for one last, slow kiss. As it ended, he bumped his nose against yours playfully. “Have a safe journey, my dear. I will see you soon.” With that, he turned you around carefully and nudged you towards your waiting friends, a couple of whom were sporting raised eyebrows and impressed looks. Heat flushed into your cheeks as you realized just how much explaining you were going to have to do on the transport home.

TRANSLATIONS:

Bo’yadik – uncle [lit. father’s brother] – in this case, Macet is technically his first cousin - once removed, but for the purposes of this story, it’s just simpler to say that he calls Macet uncle.

CestUl - child

Adik - Mother

Chu’en - the collective term for the Cardassian dermal spoon formations (chufa, chula, and chuva)

prUt - term for the Cardassian penis (Cho’Ch is a slang term for this)

[lordmccoveycove]

https://www.adastrafanfic.com/works/905/chapters/1854

“Agamemnon” by Lord McCovey Cove Chapters: 6/6 Words: 15,671 Fandom: Expanded Universes (General) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Richard James, t'Aimne, Hank Grayum Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Drama, Adult Language, Angst Series: Part 1 of Star Trek: The Quarterdeck Breed Summary:

Part One of Star Trek: The Quarterdeck Breed

Stardate 53441: When LCDR Richard James arrives on the Border Patrol ship Agamemnon, he clashes with his new captain's command style... and fruit that it bears.

Cover Credits: Artwork by Alexander Richardson (used with written permission).

[walkingstackofbooks]

Finally posted to AO3! And re-reading it I am far happier than I thought I was with how it turned out 😅

"Are you happier? Now that the war is over?"

It had been meant as a serious question, but from the look on Kira's face, she hadn't caught onto that. "What sort of question is that, 'am I happier'?" she asked, laughing a little as she spoke. "Of course I am! Who isn't?"

Shrugging, Julian forced himself to smile back at her. "No, of course," he agreed. "Silly question."

His smile clearly hadn't been convincing: Kira's own smile had faded as she looked at him more closely, her eyebrows creasing into a frown.

"Have I done something to make you think I'm not?" she asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No-- no, nothing like that," Julian said hurriedly. "I mean, obviously Odo's gone now, and Keiko and the Chief, and Worf, and... and the Captain... But that-- That's different, isn't it, I guess. You can be sad and happy at the same time, right?"

He cringed, knowing that he hadn't quite managed to make sense there: years of practice had made him very good at recognising Kira's 'baffled' expression.

"All these years," said Kira, slowly shaking here head, "and I still don't understand you, sometimes. Of course I miss Odo, and the others -- and while we're at it, of course I'm still angry and-- and upset about the things that happened during the war..." She made a face, banging her fist lightly against the table. "Damn you, you know I'm no good with feelings, that's... there's a lot more there, besides," she added. "And I'm sure as hell not going into that right now...

"But if you're asking whether I'd rather be here, now, living without the threat of the Dominion or the Cardassians, knowing my friends are alive and safe -- and if they're not, at least being able to mourn them in peace, not having to make decisions that could get us all killed if it goes even slightly wrong... or if I'd rather be back there, in the war -- well. It's no contest, is it?"

"In theory, no, of course--"

"In theory?" Kira asked incredulously. "Julian, are you saying you were happier in the war?"

"No!" he exclaimed: that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "The war was-- it was... Well, you couldn't be happy during the war, could you? Everything was too awful, it was impossible."

"A lot of the time, yeah," Kira said softly. "And that's gonna stick with us for a long time -- but they're only memories, now. We made it."

"We did," Julian said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table. "I just... I thought I'd be happier, I guess. Now that it's all over."

Kira reached forward, brushing her hand over his. "That's what this is all about?" she asked. "You aren't happy?"

"I never said I'm not," Julian objected hotly, looking back up at her -- but a sigh slipped out of him as he realised he didn't actually have an argument, and he shook his head, slumping back into his chair. Kira watched him, not saying anything.

"No, you're right," he admitted, pulling his arms across himself, almost too tight. "I know I'm supposed to be-- I know, after everything, it's so stupid... But, Nerys, I don't-- I don't think I am?"

Stopping to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, he noticed he eyes had grown wet, which for some reason made him chuckle. "Isn't that silly?" he asked, leaning forward again. "We won the war, but I'm still not happy."

"No, Julian," Kira replied slowly. "I don't think that's silly at all. It's just... It's just very, very sad." She took a breath, reaching out to hold both his hands this time. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her hands tightly. "For a while, I just thought everyone else was pretending, too, so I just went along with it... And then I started to realise that no, you were all actually at least a little bit okay, and so I had to keep pretending, because happiness is so fragile and I didn't, you know, want to make anyone else feel bad just because I..."

He trailed off, shrugging a little. "I don't know, Nerys. I guess I just wanted to check that it wasn't just me, but it is just me, and now I've told you, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad--"

"Julian, no," Kira interrupted. "Thank you for sharing this with me -- I'm glad you told me, okay?"

Ears growing hot, Julian ducked his head, not quite sure to do with the wave of emotion spilling over him. Now that he'd told her some of it, he kind of wanted to let everything out. Distractedly, he started tracing patterns on her hands, pushing into them with increasing intensity.

"It's just-- I'm just..." He stumbled over his words, struggling to give voice to the one thought that he'd been trying to ignore for months. "What if this is it for me? What if I'm like this forever? It's been years, Nerys--"

To his horror, his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to burst out. Hoping that no-one else had noticed, he looked around the replimat; thankfully the other diners seemed more interested in their own conversations than in him and Kira.

"Would you like to go somewhere less public?" Kira asked. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nodded, and together they left the replimat.

As they walked down the promenade and up to the habitat ring, Kira steered clear of their previous conversation, chatting about the station, her week, her latest grievance with Quark, and Julian was grateful for the respite. But as soon as they were sat down in her quarters, she turned to him with a most serious expression.

"It isn't right, you feeling like that, you know," she said. "I don't have the answers, I don't know how it gets better -- but we both know someone who would. You haven't tried telling Ezri any of this, have you?"

Julian's stomach tightened: Ezri was the last person he wanted to have this particular conversation with. "Oh, yes, because that would go so well," he retorted sarcastically. "Hi Ezri, I love you, but you don't make me happy. Don't worry, it's not you, I'm just unhappy most of the time. Most of the time? Yeah, it gets better when I'm around you, because then I just kind of feel... nothing. What an improvement!"

"Julian..." whispered Kira, but it was all coming out now and Julian couldn't make it stop. He rose from the sofa, starting to pace as he spoke.

"Did you ever make me happy? Maybe, sweetheart, but I'm not even certain of that. I might have been so desperate for anything even resembling happiness that I just deluded myself into thinking I was in love... Do I even love you? Who the fuck knows, Ezri. Is love even real, or did it die in the war along with every-fucking-thing else?"

His voice had risen louder than he'd intended, condemning him with every word it pushed forcefully into the air. He'd made Kira cry, he thought, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision being clouded by his own mess of tears.

"How could I possibly tell her that?" he asked, sitting back down heavily, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "Kira, how the hell do I tell her that?"

"Come here," she said in way of a response, pulling him against her and holding him tightly, so that he could feel her lips move against his hair as she answered him. "I don't know," she was saying, "but you have to, Julian. I can be there with you if you want but, Prophets, Julian, you have to. How could you not?"

How could he not?

Julian closed his eyes and let himself fall apart against his friend, not even bothering to try to answer her. It was terrifying, after all this time, to finally allow someone to see how broken he really was, but he was far, far too tired to keep it in any longer.

[thefrostychemist]

Saw that Jem'Hadar are a playable faction in STO, and like... Whose Star Trek fantasy is being the highly expendable warrior slave race genetically engineered to be lethally addicted to a drug held only by commanding officers to prevent disobedience???

[pon-farr-night]

ME WHEN I WANT TO POST ABOUT MY STAR TREK OCS BUT I'M SCARED, SPOOKED EVEN, THAT IT WILL BE CRINGE AND THE MASSES WILL HATE THEM!!!

[cosmicluci]

Weird rant-y post, because I was just thinking about it.

But you know International Crimes? They’ve been a sadly very recent topic, showing up on the news a lot. They appear in fiction all the time. People talk about them.

They are Genocide, Crimes Against Humanity, War Crimes, and Crimes of Aggression. They’re also the crimes tried by the International Criminal Court, and defined in the Rome Statute. We’ve all heard about them.

The thing that annoys and concerns me is that a whole lot of people tend to mix them up, and I think it’s important to know the differences.

First, Crimes of Aggression are basically starting a war. One country attacking another country. That’s different from War Crimes, but I’ll talk about those later.

Big confusion people make is between Genocide and Crimes Against Humanity:

Genocide is acts taken purposefully to destroy in whole or in part a group. The international definition lists National, Ethnic, Racial, and Religious groups, but based on a consideration made during one of the trials in the ICTR all the way back in 1998, about the spirit of that law, it’s reasonable to consider it as encompassing any group that is similarly “Stable and Permanent”. This means it does necessarily include, say, regional groups, disabled people, and any part or all of the LGBTQ+ community. But it is purposefully about destroying a group, and it is always directed and specific.

Crimes Against Humanity, on the other hand, is about widespread and/or systematic attacks directed at a civilian population. This doesn’t always require specific intent, and it can be a lot more generalized. It also includes political persecution, and group persecution that isn’t necessarily about destruction. Apartheid is a Crime Against Humanity.

An important detail is that in no way is a Crime Against Humanity less severe, less heinous, less serious, than a Genocide. They’re both heinous. They’re often at equal levels of horror. Heck, a Crime Against Humanity can often have its own special types of cruelty. This is where you most commonly (though not exclusively) get state-sanctioned torture, or oppression lasting for decades or even hundreds of years. So let’s also not treat this as a lesser crime. It’s super duper not.

The next big difference is that Genocide and CAH are not War Crimes. I’ve seen a lot of people calling them that, or saying that people convicted for Genocide and CAH were convicted for war crimes. This one is troubling because it also creates the mistaken impression that those things happen in war, or that they’re always tied to war. That’s a HUGE mistake. As much as they’re often covered up with war, or people use war as an opportunity or justification to commit those crimes, they can just as much happen when there’s no war. And even when there is a war, those crimes don’t favor or are necessary for a war effort (of course, the perpetrators do like framing it as such, but we really shouldn’t put a lot of trust into what perpetrators say to justify their atrocities).

War Crimes are acts committed in violation of the rules about means and methods, and about protected persons, places, and objects, in a context of armed conflict. That’s a specific set of rules. This is also different from starting the war. A country can technically start an aggressive war (Crime of Aggression) and not commit war crimes, just as a country can take part in a war legally (for example, in self defense), but take actions that constitute War Crimes.

Another quick detail is that an act can be more than one thing. And similar acts taken in different contexts can be different crimes.

I doubt anyone will read this post, or read it this far. But if someone does, keep all of this in mind when looking at real world news. Israel, for example, hasn’t committed a Crime of Aggression against Palestine, but is committing Crimes Against Humanity, War Crimes, and Genocide. Some of those for way longer than the current conflict. Russia, on the other hand, committed a Crime of Aggression, and I’d argue all the others as well (long story about Genocide. We don’t usually hear about that, or about the hate rhetoric coming from Russia about Ukraine. Won’t go into it now. But there’s some troubling evidence that there very much is also a Genocide there).

Also think about it when we see it in fiction! Thanos in the MCU didn’t commit a genocide. His attack was generalized, unspecific, and undirected. He killed indiscriminately. It’s a Crime Against Humanity (or, I guess, in that case, not humanity? Maybe a Crime Against Sentiency. Not a Genocide, though).

In Star Wars, the Empire commits multiple genocides (in that case, a planetary group can be considered), as well as Crimes Against Sentiency in its oppression of populations. The Jedi Purge was a genocide as well. Meanwhile, we see Republic forces committing War Crimes (such as when they use the tactic of false surrender to lull CIS forces into a massacre, or the use of an enslaved army, or the recruitment of children), and even Genocide against the Geonosians. We do also have CIS forces committing international (or…interplanetary?) crimes, mind you. Especially Crimes Against Sentiency, attacking and oppressing civilian populations, or War Crimes as they use torture.

In Star Trek DS9, when the Cardassians enact a systematic and widespread oppression of the Bajorans, that’s a Crime Against Sentiency. But when they decide they should exterminate them, that’s Genocide. The Dominion trying to exterminate Cardassians is also Genocide. And when the Romulans hid weapons in their hospital base, that’s a War Crime.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Okay, here are my current notes on the Markarth Incident. This is more of an evolution of thought rather than a final product, 'kay? 'kay. XOXO

4E 174 – The Empire recalls all Legions from the far corners of the Empire to participate in the final assault against the Aldmeri-held Imperial City. Every town and city not on the frontlines is left with a skeleton garrison. 

The Reachmen of Western Skyrim chooses to capitalize on this movement. The Reachmen populate an area of Western Skyrim, Eastern High Rock, and Northern Hammerfell. Although they appear similar to the Bretons of High Rock, they are wholly distinct, worshipping gods completely detached from those of Breton culture. During the Second Era, they once ruled Cyrodiil as the Longhouse Emperors; in recent history, they have lived subject to other races, primarily the Nords, who rule much of the Reach. More often than not, Reachmen are second-class citizens, though very rarely have they received decent though not preferential treatment from a Nordic Jarl.

When the Empire recalls their Legions, the capital of the Reach, Markarth, is left functionally undefended. A Reachman leader, Madanach, takes this opportunity to seize the city and install a Reachmen government in place of the Nords. Madanach declares himself King of the Reach and succeeds the Reach from Skyrim. Contemporary Imperial documents show that Madanach sent emissaries to Emperor Titus Mede II in an attempt to have the Reach recognized as its own Imperial Province wholly separate from Skyrim. Titus Mede appeared to have taken this into serious consideration, though he was unable to give it his full attention as the Empire was planning their attack on the Imperial City. 

Conflicting reports on the time frame of the Reachman takeover exist. Reports vary between the takeover beginning in Fourth Era 174 and 177 when the conflict was over. Contemporary Imperial and Forsworn documentation claim that Madanach’s rule was relatively stable, saying he was fair to the Nords, his people ousted from power, and allowed them to remain in the city so long as they recognized his government. It is said that live around Markarth continued in the same way as before, though under the Reachmen rather than the Nords. It may be important to note that Nord landholders who “mistreated” their Reachmen servants were put to death. 

The Nordic perspective (as shared by Jarl Igmund in Fourth Era 201) claims that the Reachmen takeover was violent, leading to a chaotic period in which Nords were heavily discriminated against and no civil cooperation between races. 

[Madanach’s version of events MAY be closer to the truth. N.B: During his rule, he seems willing to help a group of dissident Blades in exchange for a favor.]

The White-Gold Concordat is signed 11th of Sun’s Dusk, Fourth Era 175; Surviving veterans of the Battle of the Red Ring return to their homes, including large populations of Nordic legionnaires. Talos worship is outlawed. Talos temples are closed, though many continue to worship him in private. Ulfric Stormcloak takes offense to the banning of Talos worship, viewing it as a central aspect of Nord culture. His father, Hoag, the Jarl of Windhelm and Bear of Eastmarch, does not legalize Talos worship despite Ulfric’s religiosity. It may be that he wishes to avoid a conflict with the Empire. Jarl Hrolfdir of Markath, in exile by Madanach’s government, promises Ulfric and his supporters religious freedom should they take back the Reach from the Reachmen. This is in blatant disregard of the White-Gold Concordat. 

Ulfric leads a militia across Skyrim to the Reach where they took back Markarth. A few Reachmen leaders were imprisoned, though others were killed, along with most of their warriors, though some were driven off into the surrounding wilds. The survivors in exile began to call themselves the Forsworn. They attack Nords and the Empire indiscriminately due to anger and feelings of betrayal.

Most of the Reachmen leaders are killed. However, allegedly at the request of the Silver-Blood family, Madanach is taken prisoner and held in the depths of Cidhna Mine. The Forsworn claim that the Nords, under Jarl Hrolfdir and Ulfric Stormcloak, took back the city through an excess of unnecessary violence, putting to death or imprisoning anyone who had even spoken to Madanach or said his name. It is also said that the family members of those who were deemed to be against the Nords’ rule were imprisoned or killed, even down to young children. Purported Imperial propaganda puts forth that Ulfric himself killed everyone in Markarth who would not join his cause. 

It is true that there was bloodshed and death of innocents during the retaking of Markarth. The factuality of this claim can be traced to those Reachmen who survived the incident, sharing their experiences twenty-five years afterward. 

Jarl Hrolfdir was assassinated during attempted peace talks with the Forsworn after the retaking of Markarth. It may be that the incident only grew violent after this point due to Nordic retaliation. 

Why would Ulfric and Jarl Hrolfdir use that much unnecessary violence and brutality against the Reachmen if they intended to negotiate with them afterward?

Perhaps Igmund instigates the brunt of the violence against the Reachmen following his father’s death.

Jarl Hrolfdir was marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood. It is unknown who performed the Black Sacrament on the Jarl. It is possible someone from outside the conflict placed the contract on Jarl Hrolfdir’s head as a means of sewing chaos between the opposing sides (it could have been Igmund or Raerek [crack theory; maybe the brother was trying to Lion King his way into power and failed miserably? Or one of them opposed making peace with the Reachmen], or perhaps it was the Aldmeri Dominion?). Regardless, the Jarl’s death is the probable instigator for the deaths of many of the Reachman remaining in Markarth. 

The Imperial Legion shows up not long after the city is retaken. They are seemingly thankful that Ulfric’s militia took back the Reach. When Ulfric lets them into the city, he asks that they recognize the free worship of Talos that Jarl Hrolfdir had legalized in the Reach; otherwise, the Legion would be fought off. The Imperial Legate (or general?) present at the time okays Ulfric’s request, effectively breaking the White-Gold Concordat. Again. Not long after, the Thalmor discovered this and took issue with this breach of treaty. They give the Empire an ultimatum: disband Talos worship in the Reach or prepare for the Great War to be renewed. 

Ulfric and his followers are arrested and imprisoned by the Empire as Talos worship is again banned. The Empire must crack down on cases of Talos worship across the province. In consequence of the incident, the Thalmor gain access to Skyrim for their Justiciars through an Embassy. This is allegedly to enforce the terms of the White-Gold Concordat after it had been broken by the Nords in Fourth Era 176/7, but on an underground level, this allows the Thalmor to hunt, capture, and torture suspected Talos worshippers. The coming of the Thalmor Justiciars to Skyrim is technically a domino effect caused by Ulfric’s demand for free and open Talos worship.

Jarl Hrolfdir’s assassination happens during Ulfric and his supporters imprisonment. It may be possible that it was Ulfric OR one of his men who performed the Black Sacrament (though how could they do this while in an Imperial prison? Ulfric had to smuggle out his eulogy for his father’s funeral – what is the Imperial prison smuggling system like? Could any of them have had access to a dead body? Smuggled in or that of a fellow prisoner?). Whoever performed the Black Sacrament on Jarl Hrolfdir is the root cause for the retribution killings of the Reachmen. (Perhaps it was Thonar Silver-Blood?)

Ulfric is an uncooperative asset to the Thalmor, not because he ever cooperated with them in the first place, but because he is the (unintended) reason they have such a strong foothold in Skyrim now. 

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

i'm not super into star trek novels and the beta canon and whatnot but i'm so glad that i read Last Best Hope because it really makes Picard s1 infinitely better on rewatch (and i say this as a Picard enjoyer/defender). like 100% recommend if you're even a little bit interested in Picard era worldbuilding.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

ok but lower decks is SO right for giving kira her butch haircut back!!!!!

[magstorrn]

every few years im reminded that the war of the worlds stage show exists which is never good because i always find something new to hate about it

[joshuaalbert]

tbh i do think changeling jack would have been a better option like. first of all i think just actually sticking to the changeling plot, rather than the antagonists being the changelings and the borg in an alliance that i guess doesn’t not make sense but ultimately brushes aside the changeling stuff at the end probably would have been better, but i also think there’s some potentially interesting stuff in there. again with the caveat that this is kind of operating off of like...not totally changing the setup but trying to do something better with the same beginning.

like ok loose concept 20 years prior to ep 1 beverly picks up this kid while she’s on a mission in the wake of the dominion war and initially doesn’t know he’s a shapeshifter or anything, just that he’s a child who needs help. he’s on her ship for a while and she gets kind of attached to him, especially when he shows an early interest in medical stuff, but at some point she gets confronted by some subset of starfleet that’s after him, and it comes out that he’s a changeling who did something bad in an attempt to escape capture by starfleet and they’re here to take him back.

and like. she’s gotten to know him, and she feels protective of this kid and she believes he was genuinely acting out of fear and possibly reacting to mistreatment, whereas their charges seem. kind of questionable? they feel like the result of paranoia in the wake of the dominion war and she doesn’t trust the people that are going to bring him in to treat him fairly, and she’s already somewhat more disillusioned with starfleet than she used to be because she’s already lost one son to starfleet ideals and is starting to regard jack as another, so that questioning really gets kicked into overdrive here on a broader scale. she makes the choice to protect this kid that she’s gotten attached to and they escape, but they have to go on the run, and that’s why she’s been off the grid for so long. she raises him, and they do their medical thing, but eventually they run into trouble and she doesn’t know where else to turn, so she reaches out to picard and tells him not to involve starfleet (both because they’re potentially compromised but also because her trust in them is still not at an all time high)

and then also since that’s dealing with the dominion war and that story belongs to ds9 i would have loved to bring back sisko (probably like. as at least a 2-3 episode arc, one of which replaces the episode w/ro laren bc i love her and all but she deserved better and we could have made the points that were made there in other ways). like. put him face to face with picard for the first time since the ds9 pilot and have them reassess each other after this time. i don’t know exactly how i’d see that dynamic playing out but i think bringing them back together to try to negotiate a threat would be super interesting AND like. i would really love to see picard going to sisko for advice about fatherhood tbh. maybe picard has read jake’s work and is familiar with the fact that they have a very close relationship so in trying to bond with jack he realizes sisko could be a really good person to learn from, even if they’ve had personal struggles in the past (and even if they’re never like Friends now). idk feels like a way to bring sisko back in and give him some closure that would have worked thematically on multiple levels.

like idk i dont have a whole plot seeing as ive been thinking about this for. not very long. but by focusing more on the changeling plot and giving it personal relevance we can focus on questioning starfleet and the federation, and how having to question these things picard has dedicated his whole life to affects his identity, but ideally to me the conflict would be one that shows the potential for positive change.

[lordmccoveycove]

Note: I originally wrote this in 2002, decades before Prodigy. :)  I’m not claiming credit or anything.

“Bellerophon” by Lord McCovey Cove

Read: https://www.adastrafanfic.com/works/929 Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 9,071 Fandom: Expanded Universes (General) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Randy Duke Additional Tags: Starfleet Academy, Kobayashi Maru, Post Dominion War Series: Part 2 of Star Trek: The Quarterdeck Breed Summary:

Part Two of The Quarterdeck Breed:

Stardate Unknown: Sometimes, life at Starfleet Academy isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially for command cadet Randy Duke.

Cover Credits: Artwork by Alexander Richardson (used with written permission).

[trillscienceofficer]

the way Voyager ended VS the way DS9 ended (for their respective casts) is something that has interested me for a while though I never wrote meta about it. Essentially what I did is I invented a pairing of characters that have never met in canon to talk about it here and that's something I've kept thinking about ever since

[isagrimorie]

One of the things I’m not a fan off about Post-Dominion War Starfleet* is how they have weapons that disintegrate the whole body. Just because they don’t like showing blood or something, I have weird complicated death feelings about it.

I hate the idea one moment they’re there and the next they no longer exist except as dust.

Cleaner, sure but its so bloodless in a way that’s discomfiting.

I didn’t love it when it became a Doctor Who thing either but also, in a way, it makes sense for the Division to use weapons like that.

The Wolf 359 and Dominion War have really screwed up the Federation and Starfleet.

They’ve forgotten what its like to just be an organization whose first remit is Scientific discovery and exploration.

Starfleet really does need a massive effort dedicated to mental health.

But also they really need to get back to being the Starfleet of old.

[jsbashirmd]

@morethanmybody sent:

"I owe you an apology for what I'm about to do."

"In that case," he responded, "maybe you shouldn't do it, Captain."

[kesarijournal]

The Treaties of Lahore (1846 & 1849): A Comparative Legal Analysis of Territorial and Proprietary Rights

## AbstractThe Treaties of Lahore in 1846 and 1849 were seminal events that shaped the political and territorial landscape of the Punjab region. This paper aims to provide a comparative legal analysis of these treaties, examining their implications for territorial and proprietary rights. It also scrutinizes their compliance with the 1763 Royal Proclamation issued by King George III.##…